


Stop The World 'Cuz I Wanna Get Off (With You)

by professionalmomfriend (mothmanwashere)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Spin the Bottle, idk i listen to too much artic monkeys when i write, it's just porn, shitty handjobs in a dark closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanwashere/pseuds/professionalmomfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven minutes locked in John Egbert's dark closet with Eridan as your only company.  What could happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop The World 'Cuz I Wanna Get Off (With You)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at porn. If it's horrible, let's just all agree to forget it ever happened.  
> Title inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song of the same name

Seven minutes in heaven. You'd written it off as some sort of mythical teenage game that everyone in the movies played, but no one in real life ever had. Apparently, though, John Egbert had never gotten that memo. He suggested Seven Minutes of Heaven the same way normal people would have suggested Go Fish or Spoons, then coaxed Gamzee into borrowing his faygo bottle to the cause. Out of what was most likely boredom, the majority of the group had agreed, and that was how you came to be here: seated in a circle with fifteen other people, staring down the barrel end of Eridan Ampora's bottle spin.

You took only a moment to process this in the silence following his spin before pushing yourself off the floor, brushing off your skinny jeans, and heading for John's walk-in closet. Eridan followed and shut the door behind you both, looking carefully unreadable.

“I'll start the timer!” John called cheerily from the other side of the door.

You stared Eridan down, leaning casually against the wall. “I know I'm probably the last person you wanted to be in here with.”

Eridan didn't reply, fiddling with the chain on his belt. He was wearing gray skinny jeans, a black shirt with the cuffs rolled to his elbows, and a purple vest thing. Who even fucking wore those as an every day thing? It was like he'd been scrolling the Welcome to Night Vale tag on Tumblr, come across a fanart of Cecil, and said “this is how I will live my life.” Not that it was a bad thing, because seriously, you may have barely known the guy, but you couldn't deny that he looked good. Even that fucking stupid purple streak in his unnaturally black hair looked good.

“Well, you're not exactly my first choice for seven minutes in this Egbertian chamber of secrets either. I mean, you've barely said two fucking words to me in, like, what? Two years we've known each other?” Bitterness seeped into the edges of your tone. It was mildly discouraging to your self-imposed cool-kid status that such a good looking kid as Eridan wouldn't give you the time of day. Not that it really mattered that much. “

Eridan looked up at that. “You're wrong, actually,” he said, inching closer until he had you backed flush against the wall; the two of you pressed together from chest to knee. “You are a hard man to get alone, Strider.”

Whoa.

What?

It was hard to see in the dark, but there was an almost predatory look in his eyes. “I'll be honest with you,” Eridan purred in the darkness, grabbing hold of of your hips. It surprised you, to say the least, but you could feel heat under your skin, and it wasn't just in your face. “I wasn't plannin' to come here tonight.”

“Why did you?” you asked, forcing your voice to sound casual. The sudden closeness combined with Eridan's unanticipated (but not unwelcome) advances in the dark were getting you pretty close to losing your cool.

“Sol said you'd be here,” Eridan replied with a whisper. He closed the remaining distance between you, covering your mouth with his, and you returned enthusiastically, your shades dropping from your hand, forgotten.

He tasted like raspberry wine and mint, you noticed, and he is a rather good kisser. Not as good as you, of course, because Striders are the standard in sloppy makeouts and everyone else can only dream of being as skilled in tonsil hockey as you. But Eridan had initiated it; that was doing a pretty fair job of turning you on all on its own.

Eridan's fingers snaked under your shirt, mimicking yours as they ran up and down his smooth sides and pulled the two of you ever closer together. He broke his lips away from yours to press wet kisses underneath your jaw and if you were being honest with yourself, it was quite an effort not to moan. “Well shit, Ampora,” you muttered, still tracing lines on whatever skin you could get at underneath his waistcoat. “If you were poppin' boners over the Strider swag all this time, you coulda said something.”

“Like I said,” Eridan whispered against the skin behind your ear, and you shivered at the hot, sticky breath. “You're a hard man to get alone.”

“We're alone right now,” you pointed out. Eridan hummed in the darkness, and you couldn't help the gasp that left your lips when his hands slid down to rest on your ass, pulling your hips flush together. “Better impress me, Eribubbles,” you whispered.

He devoured your mouth again as his palms massaged circles on your ass. Slowly, you felt yourself sliding down the wall, and Eridan followed, your tongues battling for dominance. When you were nearly seated, you pushed Eridan back, disengaging your mouths and pressing him up against the opposite wall before straddling his lap and diving right back in for more. This angle had you above him, but you still let him be in control. You liked it better that way, easier to melt into Eridan's touches like a puddle of ironic cool kid in his lap. You raked one hand through his hair, tugging him gently toward you. Not that you could get any closer. His tongue was already exploring the deepest parts of your mouth and filling your senses with a tingling mint sensation.

“Just a little reminder,” you finally managed, pushing him back with a hand to his chest. As you held him away, he nipped at your collarbone, biting and licking an uneven pattern across the ridge. “All our friends are sitting on the other side of an inch and a half of drywall and imitation oak paneling, timing us down to the second.”

“I know,” Eridan replied, running his hands along your waist, fingertips skimming the skin directly under your belt. It didn't seem to bother him at all.

“How much longer before they'll bust in here, you think?”

“Long enough,” Eridan growled, tugging at your fly. You rested your forehead against his shoulder and dug your teeth into your lip to stifle any noise as Eridan slipped his fingers through the opening in your jeans and pulled out your half-hard dick. He gave a few firm tugs that had you digging your fingers into his shoulder on one hand and pulling at his hair on the other.

“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath as Eridan added a twist to his strokes. You pulled one of your hands away from his shoulder, letting the other fall to rest around his neck, and worked his fly and button open with one hand. He was even harder than you, by the feel of it, and when you wrapped your hand around his cock, he let out the sexiest fucking grunt imaginable. Still vaguely unsettled by the idea of all your friends hearing what you were doing in here (you honestly didn't care if they knew you were getting some as a result of their shitty game, you'd just rather it be left to the imagination), you sucked Eridan's bottom lip into your own mouth and let that stifle the noises you were beginning to lose control of. 

“Fuck, Dave, you're gorgeous when you're tryin' to keep your cool.”

You tried to take it as a compliment and not a bruise to your ego. Your coolkid image was something you'd been building since you were in fucking diapers; you didn't let just anyone get through that.

You masturbated each other eagerly, bits of sweat and precome making the job easier. Eridan's hips were beginning to buck up toward yours with every stroke of your hand, and grinding your ass down into his lap barely even registered as a conscious decision as your body desperately sought out more friction. Eridan's freehand still gripped your ass tightly, pulling you ever nearer.

“A-ahh,” you gasped into Eridan's mouth, squeezing your eyes shut and burying your face in his neck. The kissing was amazing, but you couldn't focus with Eridan's firm hand pumping your cock relentlessly. The coiling sensation in your stomach was too much. “Close. Fuck, I'm close.”

“Come for me, Dave,” Eridan said. You were pretty sure he was trying to sound seductive, but his voice was strained and you knew he was just as close as you. “Come on.”

After a few more tugs, you let out a keening whimper under your breath and stars exploded behind your eyelids, your grip instinctively tightening around Eridan's length. You gasped for breath as Eridan moaned your name, stiffening against you and digging his fingers into your ass almost painfully, before you nuzzled into his shoulder to catch your breath. After a few moments, you had sufficiently recovered enough to reach for any nearby piece of clothing – yanking a t-shirt from its resting place in a corner – and used it to wipe down your respective sticky hands and tender dicks. “Shit, dude,” you chuckled softly. “Pretty fucking interesting seven minutes for two dudes who barely spoke before tonight.”

“Talkin' don't mean nothin',” Eridan said, still sounding out of breath. “With the exception of you and maybe Fef, I dislike everyone in that fuckin' room.”

“Glad I made the short list, bro,” you replied, tucking Eridan back into his jeans before doing the same for yourself. You wadded up the cum-stained t-shirt and tossed it back into the corner you'd found it in. “John's gonna be fucking pissed when he finds that,” you commented with a snicker. You retrieved your shades from where you'd dropped them earlier and replaced them on your face. “How much time you think we got left?”

Eridan shrugged. “Few seconds, maybe.”

“How far should we let 'em know we got?”

Eridan smirked. “Second base.”

“Compromising position for when Egderp pulls the door open?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

You crawled back into Eridan's lap and wrapped your arms languidly around his neck. You lazily kiss, playing up the noises. True to Eridan's guess, it's only about twelve seconds before a mischievously grinning John yanked the door open with a shout of “TIME!” before wrinkling his nose at the two of you. “Geez, Dave!” John exclaimed.

“Goddamn, Egbert,” you said, picking yourself up off Eridan's lap. “Give a couple dudes some warning, huh? It's not like you locked us in a closet expecting me not to get my mack on, so how come you look so surprised.”

“It's just...” John glanced nervously at Eridan, doing an admirable poker face. “Well, never mind. It's Karkat's turn to spin!”

With that, you all returned to the circle to watch Karkat spin and land on Terezi, who dragged him into the closet, cackling maniacally. You and Eridan continued on as normal, easily deflecting questions about your seven minutes in heaven between your roundabout, metaphorical ramblings and Eridan's usual aloofness. If the two of you sat beside each other, no one commented. And when Eridan's hand found its way into your back pocket, you honestly didn't care if anyone noticed.


End file.
